


Ding Dong the Wicked Witch is Dead

by redvalerian



Category: The X-Files
Genre: AU, F/M, Fluff, fairy tale, x-files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-27
Updated: 2012-01-27
Packaged: 2017-10-30 05:20:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/328173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redvalerian/pseuds/redvalerian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dany Scully will go anywhere to save her partner, even if he has disappeared into a fairy tale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ding Dong the Wicked Witch is Dead

Title - Ding Dong the Wicked Witch is Dead

Author - Red Valerian

E-Mail address - redvalerian@gmail.com

Rating - Don't faint but it's a PG. Just wanted to see if I could write something which wasn't NC-17! Sorry for the smut lovers out there, but I thought it would be nice to write at least one story that I could have shown to my grandmother. Keeping in mind that my grandmother wasn't averse to using the odd rude word.

Category - Ummmm….story - with just a smidgen of RST plus lots of innuendo

Spoilers - A passing reference to a conversation which took place in 'Detour'

Summary - Way back in October I happened on a Red Riding Hood adaptation employing the dynamic duo (Yo CiCi - I just *loved* Lycanthropy. Thanks for the repost) Anyway, it inspired me to write my own Fractured Fairy Tale. You see the results before you at last.

Disclaimer: GUESS WHAT! THEY'RE NOT MINE! THEY BELONG TO CHRIS CARTER OR FOX OR 1013 OR ALL THREE! I'M JUST USING THEM WITH ABSOLUTELY NO PERMISSION AND MAKING ABSOLUTELY NO PROFT! HAVE I MADE MYSELF QUITE CLEAR? AS CRYSTAL, YOU SAY? WELL THANK GOD FOR THAT!

Do you think he heard? I thought I'd shout for once to make it really really really obvious. Like Chris Carter cares.

Oh - a final word. For better or worse, this is finally finished It's the Hallowe'en story that had to wait for Christmas. This time I'm posting it as ONE LONG STORY, so if you've already read the first two parts, skip straight ahead and search for Chapter Three. Do not pass go. Sorry for the inconvenience and sorry that it took me so long to get my act together. Now I can go back to what I'm told I do best. Writing smut.

*Final* final word. Many many many thanks to JohnieRed and to my daughter, both of whom helped me inject some much needed witty banter between Moose and Squirrel. Muchos Gracias.

Ding Dong the Wicked Witch is Dead

Red Valerian

CHAPTER ONE

Dana Scully felt some momentary relief as she finally let out the string of expletives she'd been bottling up inside since Mulder had woken her up at two in the morning and practically ordered her to leave her cosy motel bed and meet him here in this ungodly woods. Or was it an ungodly forest? She wasn't quite sure. Whatever it was, it stretched unbroken from where she stood shivering, all the way up to the Arctic Circle. And it didn't appear to be inhabited by anyone either. Not by anyone human anyway.

She and Mulder had come to this isolated community in Northwestern Canada to investigate the unaccountable disappearance of several local children. They'd all last been seen going into the woods. These woods. They were all there one moment and then gone the next. The pattern had been identical. Parents had taken their children out camping or to gather pine cones for seasonal decorations or just to commune with nature generally. These were good parents. Responsible ones. They'd all warned their kids not to venture too far away from campfires or cars. They didn't deserve to have their kids suddenly disappear. Without a trace. Apparently into thin air. Just like that. *Poof*

Oh yeah. She'd forgotten. The missing children had left one thing behind them. Their blood-curdling screams.

Scully looked around her and shivered again as she took in the desolate landscape. It was like an illustration from a horror story - all ominous shadow and chill moonlight. The giant oaks with their gnarled limbs silhouetted against the starlit sky, seemed waiting for an opportunity to grab her and drag her to some unspeakable end. They were interspersed with towering pines which loomed even higher, making her feel as helpless and terrified as any abandoned child. All she needed to complete the picture was to see a bat fly across the full moon or to hear a wolf start howling mournfully.

As if on cue Scully heard the leathery flap of wings and immediately after a mournful howling began in the distance. Before she could even raise her weapon, the first howl was overtaken up by an answering one coming from the bushes just behind her. She spun around, and tried to take aim - but there was nothing to be seen. Just more shadow and moonlight.

An ominous rustling was followed by the stealthy patter of feet. Or make that the stealthy patter of paws. Then a blanket of icy silence settled over the scene once more. It was even more unnerving than the howling and rustling had been. If that were possible.

Christ. It was now well after two in the MORNING. Here she was, in the middle of nowhere and she could no longer deny it. She'd been ditched again. AGAIN!

Scully couldn't believe she'd fallen for it. After he'd promised too. And he'd given her nothing to go on either. He'd just phoned her when she was too sleepy to really take it all in, and said that he'd had an idea about what had happened to the children. A pretty good idea, but he didn't want to tell her or she'd just laugh at him.

"Listen Scully," he'd pleaded. "Just meet me at the spot where the last child disappeared. Do you remember how to get to it?"

Of course she remembered. And she told him so in the exasperated tone of someone who is extremely tired and cranky and pissed off with having their intelligence continually questioned.

"OK - calm down," he'd interrupted soothingly. As if he were speaking to a petulant child. "I don't want you getting lost in the deep dark woods, do I?"

She snorted in derision and he continued - with the hint of a grin in his voice. "Oh - and Scully?"

"What is it?" she snapped impatiently, already half out of bed and wanting to get this over and done with.

"I don't suppose you've got a copy of Grimm's Fairy Tales with you? It might come in useful."

At that point she'd hung up on him. It was very satisfying sometimes, that slamming down of the receiver. Almost as satisfying as a slap across the face, which is what she'd really felt like doing.

She should have expected that he wouldn't be here. That was Mulder for you. He'd ring you up and issue a series of orders and then forget what he'd told you to do or where he'd told you to meet him. It was infuriating. Maddening. She'd taken him to task for it just yesterday and he'd been so contrite. So sorry. He'd actually apologised. In fact he'd sworn he wouldn't ditch her ever again. Promise. Cross my heart Scully.

Hope to die.

Then he'd drawn the letter 'X' over his heart and smiled at her winningly. Shit. She couldn't resist him when he smiled at her like that. And he knew it too. The bastard.

Much to her disgust she'd found herself grinning back at him and forgiving him. Yet again. And now, less than twenty-four hours later, here she was in the middle of a primeval forest freezing her butt off and about to be eaten by something or other with many sharp pointy teeth. And where was Mulder? God alone knew, because she certainly didn't.

She wrapped her arms around her body in a vain attempt to get warm, while at the same time she stamped her frozen feet impatiently, trying to maintain some semblance of circulation to her extremities. Then to cheer herself up, she imagined that she was stamping them on Mulder's face. Or even better, on some other more sensitive part of his anatomy.

Stamp stamp stamp stamP. staMP. stAMP. sTAMP. STAMP! This was starting to be fun. She could just about feel her feet again. Almost.

Scully was going to give him five more minutes. That was it. Five. No more. Then if he didn't appear she was going to drive home and crawl back into her warm motel bed and not get up for at least a week. He could solve this case without her. He usually did anyway.

It was at that moment that she heard the blood curdling gut-wrenching scream. Unlike the last one, this howl was clearly being made by a human larynx, rather than by a wolf's. But this was a human in extremis. It was the sort of scream she'd heard before in her obligatory stint in the ER. Even as a raw intern, she'd soon come to realise that any patient making that particular noise was beyond medical aid. It was a sound she associated with severe burn victims. With those who clearly had no chance of survival. It signalled the end of hope and the end of life. It was a death knell.

And there could be no mistaking who it was who had just uttered that agonising scream, much as she tried to convince herself otherwise. Hadn't she heard him scream in pain before? Of course she had. Too many times. But never like this. Never as if it were the last time a sound would ever leave his tortured throat.

The voice had been Fox Mulder's. And he had been calling her name.

CHAPTER TWO

Scully didn't pause to think. She just reacted and took off through the woods, running in the general direction of Mulder's scream. She didn't stop for breath until she suddenly found herself in a circular clearing somewhere deep in the middle of the forest. Gun still drawn, she then had no choice but to examine her surroundings properly. She was bent forward, her hands braced on her knees, lungs gasping for air - while her eyes searched desperately for clues as to his whereabouts. Paths radiated outwards from the clearing in all directions, but which was the right one? Something told her she couldn't afford to make a mistake.

As she stood panting, the warm air from her lungs vaporized in the frigid atmosphere and clouded around her face, further hampering vision. The moon brooded directly overhead, its light partially obscured by dark clouds. Then a chill wind suddenly scooted them out of the way, and the unencumbered face of the full moon shone brightly down on her, offering chilly companionship. No. That was wrong, she suddenly realized with joy as the light increased further - the moon was offering something else as well. Hope. And a direction!

For with the increased illumination, Scully had suddenly noticed something pale glimmering on the ground near the entrance to one of the paths. Standing upright again, she walked hopefully towards it, then crouched down, peering at the frosty earth with a frown of concentration on her face. She slowly bent and picked the object up and then examined it more closely. Then she stood and looked further down the path, heart pounding, hoping for more clues. They had to be there. They just had to.

Reaching a decision, she entered the narrow path and began following it into the deeper gloom beyond - eyes scouring the ground at her feet. Yes! There was another one. A little cry of triumph escaped her lips as she ran forward. She bent and picked this second object up and compared it to the first. In her hand she now held two Snickers wrappers, and ahead of her on the path she could see other bits of junk food debris, and sunflower seeds carefully dropped - she was now certain - to show her which way to go. She almost smiled.

Who else would leave a trail of litter as a clue? What other grown man would be able to? She now fondly remembered Mulder stuffing his pockets full of candy bars and cup cakes at their last pit stop, explaining to his ever skeptical partner that he *needed* carbohydrates to function. "Sugar is pure carbohydrate, you know Scully. Here. Have a Snickers. You'll be amazed what it will do for you?" The offer had been accompanied by a suggestive leer.

She had passed - and despite Mulder's repeated offers, she had continued to turn down a succession of proffered Three Musketeers, Ding Dongs and Tootsie Roll Pops. Now she was doubly glad that she had. Up ahead the filtered moonlight was picking out the discarded wrappers and leading her closer to Mulder. "Please God," she whispered to the chill night, "let him still be alive when I get to the end of this trail."

Without hesitation, she began to run along the path, following the telltale clues which continued coming, thick and fast. As she trotted deeper and deeper into the icy gloom, Scully tried not to think about what she'd do when the trail of litter eventually ran out.

And then without warning, it did just that.

The path she was on suddenly ejected her into another circular clearing. Scully froze just inside the perimeter, and carefully examined her new surroundings. With a sinking heart she could see that the trail of litter did indeed come to an end in the dead centre of the clearing. From where she stood her eyes grimly followed the almost unbroken line of licorice sticks, gum drops, bubble gum wrappers and sunflower seeds. Even she was amazed that Mulder could have had *this* much junk-food about his person. Didn't the man care about his teeth, she thought idly, even as she tried to make sense of the clues in front of her.

Mulder couldn't have just disappeared into thin air - could he? Once again she let her eyes travel along the ground, following the trail of junk-food detritus which her partner had clearly left for her to find. This time, when she got to the end of it, she let her eyes drift slowly upwards. It was then that she noticed it. The slight distortion in the air. Almost like that caused by a heat haze - although God knew there was no heat here. No heat at all.

It was more like a curtain of cellophane had been stretched across the middle of the clearing, filling it from top to bottom - from side to side. But, no - cellophane wasn't quite the right word, she thought as she approached cautiously. What did it remind her of? Unaccountably her psyche shot her a memory of childhood. Blowing bubbles in the summer sun. Watching fascinated as the gossamer membrane inside the hoop grew to an impossible size just by her carefully directing a jet of air in its direction. That's what this was like. A shimmering membrane of soap and glycerin filling the entire centre of the clearing.

Scully was now only a few inches away from the opalescent membrane, and she carefully leant forward and blew towards it. As she had expected, it immediately bulged away from her, exactly like soap-bubble mixture held suspended in a wire hoop. She then held her breath and watched the membrane snap back into its original position while the moonlight picked out its barely visible swirling rainbow hues. She found herself wondering if the substance had the other properties of bubble mixture. Could she put her hand into it without bursting it? You could with a soap bubble. If you were careful enough.

Keeping her gun in her right hand, Scully slowly reached forward with her left hand and allowed it to touch the surface of and then penetrate through the filmy substance in front of her. Her hand disappeared inside it, but it didn't appear on the other side. It looked for all the world as if it had been amputated. But that couldn't have happened. She could still feel it, couldn't she? Scully wiggled fingers which she couldn't see, just to convince herself. Yup. Still there. Wherever *there* was.

She slowly withdrew her left arm, and was reassured to see her gloved fingers re-emerge. Still intact.

Now what?

The rational scientist in her knew that she should think about this more carefully. She should weigh and consider. She should experiment and make notes. Caution was important. It could mean the difference between life and death. Her life. Mulder's death. On no account should she step through this membrane. On no account whatsoever. Hadn't she seen 'Stargate'? Hadn't she watched 'Sliders'? Who knew what was on the other side?

And even as she thought the words, Agent Scully took a deep breath, said a quick prayer and made up her mind to do just that. Taking a few steps backwards in readiness, she suddenly sprinted towards the membrane, launching herself through the air only at the last minute. As her body hit the diaphanous substance it seemed to give slightly - to think about popping.

Then suddenly it changed its mind and accepted her body's weight. Not only accepted it, but welcomed it. Embraced it. And then swallowed it whole.

A second later the clearing was empty once more. But one thing had been left behind. Like all of the other victims, Scully had left one reminder of her existence - albeit a fleeting one. Her agonised screams echoed in the clearing for a full ten seconds after she had disappeared from view.

CHAPTER THREE

There are some things which are too painful to remember. The psyche takes pity and grants almost instant amnesia after great physical agony has been suffered and endured. The body remembers, but not the mind. For the first few minutes after the ordeal of passing through the membrane, Scully stood with eyes closed and fists clenched, trembling with the after effects. Her throat still ached from the screams which had been so recently wrenched from it. Her brow was still soaked with her own sweat. Her stomach still lurched nauseatingly. But, after a few seconds she realised that she no longer felt pain. No longer felt fear. And most particularly, she no longer felt cold.

She chanced opening one eye slightly at this realisation, and then they both immediately flew wide in amazement at what had been revealed.

Scully could see that the forest surrounding her had undergone an amazing transformation. The chill air, frigid moon and dark shadows were nowhere to be seen. Instead, the landscape that now met her eye was as sunny and bright as a garish illustration in a children's picture book. As she quickly took stock, Scully noticed several things. An impossibly huge yellow sun shone down on her with the ambiguous warmth of Cousin Jaffrey's smile. The painfully blue sky was decorated with an unlikely rainbow - its red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet arches clearly differentiated. Before her marched a double row of trees as symmetrical as lollipops, while the sea of grass on which she stood felt as smooth and unyielding as a bowling green.

When she could tear her eyes away from her surroundings, the next thing Scully noticed was that she had undergone an equally major transformation herself. Looking down in wonder, she saw that she wore a rather fetching peasant outfit - nipped in at the waist with a full embroidered skirt in crisp red cotton. The close fitting and tightly-laced bodice showed her figure off to its best advantage - pushing her breasts up and out rather as if she were wearing a wonder bra. Was all that cleavage really hers? she wondered en passant, as she continued her quick examination. Looking further down she saw that on her feet she wore a pair of wooden clogs - much more comfortable than her usual footwear. She wiggled her toes inside them experimentally, and found that they had plenty of room to spread out. Nice. Good for running.

Craning behind, she saw that her hair had grown several feet and now hung down her back in two thick braids, tied off with yellow bows. She gave her head a little shake, and felt them sway from side to side in a strangely satisfying manner.

Her thoughtful face was suddenly lit by a broad grin at the picture she knew she presented. There was no denying it. She looked for all the world like Snow-white's shaplier sister. Or like an out-sized and rather beautifully dressed Hummel figurine.

But enough was enough. She had work to do and partners to rescue. Turning back and peering through the avenue of trees, Scully thought that she could see a little house off in the distance. Somehow she wasn't at all surprised. The rational, skeptical scientist had been left behind on the other side of the portal. She had no place in this environment; in this surreal fairy-tale landscape. But which fairy-tale, that was the question. Ever since Mulder had mentioned the Brothers Grimm, Scully had been mentally going through the stories she'd read as a child. And once she'd come upon his trail of litter, she knew exactly which tale he wanted her to focus on. It wasn't a exactly a huge intellectual leap.

So at this moment, she had no doubt that when she got closer to the little house, she would find that it was made of gingerbread. And she also knew exactly who she was likely to discover inside - probably in a cage with the missing children. Waiting impatiently to be rescued.

At least she hoped so.

As Scully began to run through the perfectly manicured forest with her braids flying behind her, she found herself rather wishing that when she *did* find Mulder he'd be wearing lederhosen. There was something about a man in leather shorts and embroidered suspenders...

A few minutes running brought her close enough to examine the little house from behind the safety of a gumdrop shaped bush. The house did indeed seem to be made of gingerbread. It was decorated with piped icing and candy canes. Four symmetrically placed windows and one brightly painted wooden door broke up the front elevation. It looked exactly like every child's drawing of a house, from the perfectly placed paving stones, to the brightly filled window boxes. Scully wasn't fooled, however. This time she needed to be more cautious, if she wanted to get her partner and the children back alive. She settled down to wait patiently and after a few minutes her patience was rewarded. The door opened and an old woman stepped out.

There could be no mistaking her. She might as well have worn a sign around her neck saying "wicked witch". From her aquiline nose with its strategically placed wart, to her black hooded monk's robe, she was top-to-toe a picture of storybook malevolence. She peered out of the door, holding a shiny red apple in one gnarled hand, while her myopic eyes darted from side to side suspiciously.

Then deciding that all was clear, she exited her cottage, hobbled right past Scully, and disappeared back up the avenue of trees, doubtless heading back towards the portal. Scully didn't hesitate. As soon as the woman was out of sight, she darted forward and ran up to the house. Then opening the door, she stepped inside and closed it carefully behind her.

Turning back around she was faced with a cottony darkness which her eyes at first refused to penetrate. But within a few seconds they began to adjust. As vision returned, Scully started to make out the details of the interior of the gingerbread house. It was pretty much what she had expected. Right next to her was a large fireplace, with a cauldron hanging over the unlit hearth. Under the far window was a small pine table, surrounded by four chairs with heart-shaped holes cut into their backs. At the rear left was a huge brick oven with its black iron door open invitingly. And finally in the far right-hand corner of the cottage was a cage about six feet square. A cage made up of black iron bars. A cage with something inside it.

Concentrating on the cage, Scully began to approach hopefully until her hands gripped the bars and her nose peeped through one of the gaps. She could just make out a huddle of shapes. Four little shapes, sleeping in a heap like puppies. The children!

And underneath this huddle of shapes, she suddenly realised, there sat a larger one, with his arms protectively surrounding the sleeping silhouettes. This larger shape had a face, which she now noticed was grinning rather wolfishly and staring right at up at her. Or rather, staring right up at her cleavage.

"Fox William Mulder," she whispered - her tone a mixture of intense relief and amused exasperation. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that it's rude to stare?"

The grin widened still further but the eyes still caressed her bodice until to her intense irritation, Scully found herself starting to blush. That spurred him into action at last.

"Oooooo partner," Mulder remarked, finally dragging his eyes up to the happy face which surmounted all of that cleavage. "Did anyone ever tell you how extremely good you look in a dirndl?"

Despite herself, Scully giggled. This seemed to delight Mulder even more, and he quickly extricated himself from the heap of sleeping children and heaved himself upright until he stood just opposite Scully - although the bars of the cage still separated them. He slipped his warm hands over her chilled ones which were still gripping the cold iron tightly. Then Mulder leaned in and bent his head down until their noses were actually touching through the bars. Scully closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensation of rubbing her nose against his - up and down and from side to side, as he began to whisper to her.

"I knew you'd come Scully. I just knew it. I told the kids. I promised them"

He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes for a minute before continuing. " God… You even smell good."

Before he could say any more, the excited noises of the waking children shattered the moment. Suddenly the cage was alive with curious faces and excited voices. Four extra pairs of small hands gripped the bars and four extra pairs of eyes now stared up at Scully, while a cacophony of voices clamored for attention.

Time to get them all out.

Scully slid her hands out from under Mulder's and cast a quick eye over the room as the children all shouted at once.

"Get the key!"

"It's there. Over there! "

"On the wall by the oven!"

"No, not there! There!"

"On the other side!"

Scully looked across the room and saw the key to the cage hanging on a large black hook. She ran to retrieve it, shot back and fitted it easily into the lock. The cage door swung open and all four children surged out, ignoring Scully's cry that they wait a minute until she checked that it was safe to go outside. The cottage door was already flung open, and the kids were whooping and laughing outside in the sun before she had time to admonish them.

Smiling ruefully at Mulder, she made a hurry-up gesture with her hand, and watched as her partner swiftly left the cage and joined the excited children outside.

Scully followed and assured herself that there was no wicked witch lurking in the immediate surroundings. Her breath began returning to normal and her eyes adjusted to the unnaturally cheerful light in that sunny landscape. Then she caught a proper look at Mulder.

He had crouched down to put himself on the same level as the smaller of the two girls, while he tried to convince her to stand still for a minute. The minute child was hopping up and down excitedly, her auburn braids dancing in the air. She was dressed in an identical outfit to Scully's - little clogs, embroidered dirndl, and brightly coloured headscarf. Indeed, as she looked more closely at them, Scully saw that all the children looked like Hummel figurines as they clustered around a larger grown-up version of themselves.

Oh yes. It was Mulder. In lederhosen. Mulder in lederhosen looking as good as she had hoped he would.

For some reason the tight fitting leather shorts and embroidered suspenders weren't incongruous on his rangy but well-muscled frame. In fact, he looked pretty good with all of that leg exposed to view. Not to mention the tight buns.

"Enjoying the view, *Agent* Scully?" Mulder's voice suddenly asked, although he had not even turned around to see what she was doing.

Busted.

She must be getting immune. Not even a shadow of a blush coloured her cheeks as Mulder stood up to face her. He was grinning broadly - the pig. The beautiful, arrogant pig. And to make matters worse, she couldn't help smirking right back at him. He walked right up to her and slowly ran his gaze up and down her body, before letting it come to rest on her low cut bodice. Again. Despite herself, Scully began to breathe heavily - which in a cleavage-revealing outfit is never a good idea.

Mulder couldn't resist. He leant even closer so that he could whisper in her ear, although his eyes were directed further south. His warm breath tickled her sensitized skin as he spoke too softly for the children to hear.

"It's true, Scully. The hills *are* alive!"

Mulder pulled back and finally dragged his eyes up to her face again so that he could gauge her reaction. She smiled that smile of hers that always made him want to drop his hands in front of his groin for protection. Then she turned to the children and spoke.

"OK kids. We're going home now. Stay in a line and nobody wander off of the path, OK?

"Wrong Fairy Tale, Agent Scully." Mulder said as he approached the group. "Did you get a little lost looking for grandma? And what big….eyes….you've got there!"

Scully ignored him and continued talking to the children.

"Agent Mulder will lead the way, and I'll bring up the rear. We'll be home before you know it."

He sniggered. "Papa and Mama bear aren't home but you can sleep in my bed anytime, Scully."

"Perhaps I should remind the children that some pricks can make a girl sleep for a hundred years, Agent Mulder."

Mulder stepped closer and lowered his voice again so that only she could hear him.

"Conversely Scully, you could tell them that some pricks can keep a girl up all night."

"Bite me, Mulder," she whispered back, but without rancour. Then she turned and walked away.

"I will Scully, I will," Mulder murmured under his breath as he watched her, with a minimum of fuss, transform the cavorting little figures into an orderly row of obedient children.

They began to make their way back to the portal, and within minutes they stood in front of its distorting lens. The children's excited voices wobbled to a stop, and they suddenly looked fearful. Scully knew what the problem was. It had 'hurt' to go through that thing. Hurt a lot. Even Scully herself didn't know if she'd be able to cope with the pain again so soon, and she was a grown up FBI agent who faced monsters and bad guys daily.

Scully glanced up at Mulder to see him looking sympathetically back at her.

"Gotta be done Scully. If we all hold hands we can do it together. OK?"

Scully nodded and took a little pigtailed figure by each hand. Her partner did the same with the two boys and within a second or two they were all attached and staring warily at the filmy substance which was separating them from home and normality.

"On the count of three, Mulder?" Scully asked, gazing straight ahead.

"Yeah - three it is."

The children joined them as they began a slow count.

"One."

"Two."

"Three!"

On the final number they all stepped forward and breached the membrane together.

It's surprising the decibel level that can be reached by two adults and four children screaming all at the same time.

CHAPTER FOUR

If anything it was worse this time. The agonizing pain was the same as it had been before, true. Stomachs lurched once more with the nausea. Sweat dripped again from brows contorted with pain. Throats ached with the after effects of desperate screaming. But all of this was now exacerbated by the added nightmare of finding themselves so suddenly in the bitterly cold Canadian winter. The fact that their clothing had been returned to normal was little help. The warm trickle of sweat between Scully's breasts turned into ice-water. Drawing in a shuddering breath she felt the lining of her nose frost up and as she choked and gasped in a lungful of air the shock of the cold knocked it straight back out of her again. Everyone seemed to be coughing. She looked around irrationally for Cancer Man. Then there was the incredibly bright light. And the noise. What on earth was all of that noise?

Before she could properly recover the use of her senses to decipher it all, she found herself being wrapped in a foil thermal insulating blanket and being reassured by a familiar voice that she'd be OK now. Maybe the voice would put her in the back of its car and let her sleep in the back-seat all the way home while it talked to Mom softly in the front. And then maybe it would carry her up to her own bed and tuck her in. The voice began to sound like it belonged to Skinner. The implications of what she'd been thinking forced her back into wakefulness.

She looked frantically around for Mulder. There he was with the line of shivering children, all being wrapped in foil blankets identical to her own. They looked for all the world like a row of baked potatoes. Their eyes were still squinted shut against the blinding light, as hers had been a few seconds before. As their warmed breath vapourised in the frigid air, their features were momentarily obscured, and Scully turned away at last.

Now that she knew Mulder was all right, she could finally take a good look at her surroundings. They had all emerged into the woodland clearing at the exact spot where they had entered the portal the previous night. But gone was the solitude and ominous silence which had characterised it previously. Now there were flashing lights everywhere, and insistent voices boomed out unintelligible orders through bull horns. Squinting into the most promising direction Scully could distinguish what looked like a fleet of emergency rescue vehicles. Light bulbs flashed incessantly punctuating the icy darkness which surrounded them. The sound of helicopter rotors overhead drew her eyes upwards away from the glare, and she focused on a CNN News chopper, until its searchlight suddenly illuminated the clearing with a searing conical beam. Scully was instantly blinded again and closed her eyes quickly. The after image of a helicopter-shaped silhouette played back on the inside of her eyelids.

"Come along with me now, Agent Scully," the familiar authoritarian voice suddenly demanded. Skinner again. He took her arm and began to lead her towards the source of all the noise and light. Scully allowed herself to be led. Anything to get out of the cold, into the warm and away from the glare. As long as Mulder was there too, that is.

A quick glance over her shoulder reassured her that he and the children were also being shepherded in the same direction. A few minutes saw the four children ensconced in the back of one ambulance while the two agents were safely stowed in another. Their half-hearted protests that they were fine fell on deaf ears. Skinner was insistent.

"Just be quiet and get in the back of the ambulance, now. Both of you!" As they complied, Skinner's voice barked a series of orders to the ambulance crew. Scully could hear him explaining that the female agent on board was a medical doctor who appeared to be suffering from nothing worse than mild hypothermia. The paramedics were told they'd be better placed in the other ambulance helping look after the four children. He then returned to check that his agents were still in the back of the vehicle. They both stood side by side in the doorway, looking out at the frantic activity with bemused expressions on their faces. Skinner's silhouette suddenly blocked their view and his voice ordered them to get back inside before they froze to death.

Scully capitulated gracefully. The sooner they got going the sooner she could get some answers. Like where exactly had they been and how exactly had Skinner known where to wait for them and what exactly had happened to the 'witch' and how long exactly had they been gone?

Aloud she asked the only question which was likely to get answered immediately.

"Exactly how far *is* it to Mercy General, sir?"

At that moment the double doors were slammed shut on them. Skinner's curt reply was lost as the ambulance siren suddenly whooped into life. Scully thought she'd heard him say an hour, but she couldn't be sure. They *were* in the middle of the wilderness though, so it was quite possible that they'd be stuck in here for a long long time.

Interesting.

The vehicle lurched off into the darkness, and as it accelerated unexpectedly the two agents fell onto the fixed gurney inside in an undignified heap. Scully attempted to extricate herself but this was difficult as Mulder had suddenly gone all playful again. She found herself flat on her back - pinned to the gurney, with a grinning Mulder looking down at her. One of the foil insulating blankets had miraculously stayed in place and it now covered the two of them quite effectively.

"Mulder - what are you doing?" Scully finally gasped as she realised that he had no intention of letting her get up.

"Resistance is useless, my pretty…." he replied and he began to nuzzle his freezing nose into the warmth under Scully's chin. "And anyway," he added as he nipped at her tender flesh gently, "you *told* me to bite you."

Scully heard herself giggling again but she continued her half-hearted resistance until she realised that her struggling was having an….unexpected…..effect on her partner. She could *feel* the effect quite clearly pressed somewhere in the vicinity of her stomach. And it seemed to be growing by the second.

How interesting.

She gave an experimental wiggle. Then another. And then she pulled his mouth down to hers and gave him the full-on Dana Scully special - the kiss capable of melting permafrost. He gave in and groaned loudly.

At the noise a concerned voice from the front of the ambulance shouted back and asked if they were all right.

"I'm just warming Agent Mulder up," Scully shouted back. "I think he's having a little trouble with his circulation but I'll soon sort his problem out."

Truer words had never been spoken.

Virtual silence reigned for quite a few minutes in the back of the ambulance, although there was rather a lot of heavy breathing to be heard. When Scully finally spoke again, her voice low and breathy. For her partner's ears alone.

"Hey," she whispered, grabbing his face in both of her hands and forcing him to stop kissing her for a second and meet her gaze. "What was that you were telling me recently about the best way to regain body heat?"

Fox Mulder was an intelligent and a resourceful man who responded quickly in any given situation. He didn't need to be reminded twice of the advice he'd given Scully on their last disastrous woodland jaunt. Even though he'd been delirious at the time, the image was imprinted on his brain.

The best way to regain body heat is to get naked with someone who is similarly naked inside a sleeping bag with you. That was the gist anyway.

Mulder wasn't delirious now. He exploded into action and within a few minutes the two sniggering Federal agents discovered that a thermal insulating blanket does indeed make an absolutely fabulous substitute for a sleeping bag.

But something was bothering Scully. Putting her hands on his chest, she pushed him back and struggled up onto her elbows.

"What about the witch, Mulder? There's a dangerous escaped felon with magical powers, not to mention a broomstick, in the vicinity. Shouldn't we be, um, doing something more constructive?"

"Oh dear," he whispered in her ear, as he pushed her back down. "Didn't you ever read to the end of the story? The witch is dead."

"Hey Mulder," she said, as she undulated beneath him. "Ding dong."

\- fin -

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